


Kiss me like you mean it

by tambrathegreat



Series: Dramione Drabbles [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 02:59:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6452788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tambrathegreat/pseuds/tambrathegreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Dramione drabble with angst, chocolate ice cream, and fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss me like you mean it

“

 

The hurt was too new, too raw. Tears clouded her eyes as she re-read the article for the hundredth—no, thousandth— time. How could he be so inconstant, so hurtful, so… like his old self? He had been a playboy for years before he pursued Hermione, no matter that during at least a few of those years he had been married to Astoria Greengrass. He had divorced the woman and continued his dissolute lifestyle until he’d worked with Hermione on legislation regarding house elves. He had pursued Hermione relentlessly, had won her heart, even over her misgivings. He had been there in the aftermath of Ron’s defection, he knew how much fidelity meant to her. Draco had assured Hermione that he had turned over a new leaf, had seen the error of his ways— they all had their post war coping mechanisms after all— But he had _promised_ her…

Hermione traced the outline of the ex-Madam Malfoy’s face, watched as Draco leaned into her, his expression partially obscured by his ex-wife’ hat, his eyes heavy lidded and sultry. She crumpled the paper between her fists and decided work, at least for today, was over-rated. She went to the fridge, pulled out the six month old chocolate ice-cream, the one she’d bought after Ron’s defection with the Veela, and retrieved a spoon from a drawer. She went back to bed and began feeding her heartache. House elves and Malfoys could sod off, at least for today.

***  
She awoke to someone touching her face and neck softly, lips and teeth grazing the exposed skin above her pyjama tee. Her eyes flew open when she heard Malfoy’s voice say, “Wake up, Poppet.”

She shoved at his hands and scooted as far away from him as she could without falling off the bed. “You promised me!”

A fleeting look of betrayed disappointment crossed his face before he pasted the superior smirk he used to intimidate most people into doing what he wanted. “I did.”

“So why are you here then?” Hermione pushed a mass of hair out of her face, knowing that it probably looked frizzed and out of control. “Why aren’t you out with her choosing china patterns, or whatever it is you do in society circles after you make such a public display of yourselves?”

She looked down, noting with chagrin that in her earlier binge she had spilt chocolate on her tee and smeared it while she slept. She knew she was being foolish. It had only been a photo in a rag that had only the briefest brushes with journalistic integrity.  
Draco shook his head, his grey eyes sparkling in the wan afternoon light that filtered through the drawn curtains on her windows. “China patterns? Really, Granger?”

Hermione felt her eyes well up with the tears she had denied herself during her chocolate binge. “It just… I’m surely not who your family would pick for you… They wanted you to be… you’re the Slytherin prince and I’m just a Mud…”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Draco leaned closer to her, menace in his tone. They’d had their moments when they first started this… whatever it was. He’d made it clear that he no longer thought the way he’d been taught, no matter that his parents were still reluctant to see their situation as more than a fling. “I knew you’d over-react when you saw that picture.”

He leaned closer. She could feel the heat of his body, his breath on her face. “I was with Astoria to fetch something that she had taken when we divorced. It was a family heirloom. You know _The Prophet_ isn’t fit to line the bottom of a rat’s cage.”

“I-I know.” And Hermione did, even if she hadn’t before. “Malfoy… _Draco_ … Kiss me like you mean it, like there's no one else but me...”

“There is no one else but you Granger. “ He said in a whisper against her lips. And she believed him about that too as he fumbled into his suit coat pocket, “This is what I wanted to give you, all Malfoy betrotheds wear it.”

She looked down. In his palm held a velvet box with a sparkling, antique emerald ring that was encrusted with so many diamonds it seemed to create it’s own light. He waited as she gaped, and finally said, “Marry me, you maddening little idiot. Make me the happiest man alive. Don’t make me beg, because you know I will.”

She fell into his arms, kissing away the affected pout he wore. When they broke apart, his eyes stormy and dark grey, her skin flushed with desire, he said dryly, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

They spent the remainder of the day celebrating in the most intimate of fashions.


End file.
